


A Quartet (Formerly a Trio) of Indruck Fics

by ThisWasInevitable



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Kittens, M/M, Reader requests, TAZ-Amnesty, The Sims, indruck, rating is for language, the lightest of angsts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-06 02:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisWasInevitable/pseuds/ThisWasInevitable
Summary: Four Indruck centered reader requests.





	1. Sims

**Author's Note:**

> "I have an Indruck fic request. Duck sometimes plays Sims on his laptop (he has an Ethernet cable so it works in the radio quiet zone) and when he met Indrid, he drunkenly decided to make a Sims Duck and Indrid who are married with kids. Real Duck and Indrid are just friends. When Indrid asks to borrow his laptop for something, Duck says yes completely forgetting about his drunken Sims creation. Indrid opens Sims cuz he also used to play and misses it. And of course he finds Duck’s creation. "

Duck has a few things from his youth that he still uses: some CDs, a beloved book or two, Beacon.

And, of course, his Sims.

His Sim, the first one he’d ever made and named Duck, had been the first time he’d dared to make a version of himself that matched how he actually felt. Duck in the game could just be a guy, while Duck IRL was struggling to figure out how to tell people he was a guy. 

Nowadays, the game is just something he does for fun once in awhile, to let off some stress or mess around if he’s bored. Until one March evening where he’s more than a little drunk and decides he needs to play Sims _right now_.

He plays around for a bit, giggling at all the familiar people and places sober him built into the game; Leo’s store, the lodge, Aubrey, Ned, even Agent Stern. There’s someone missing, though he can’t quite put his finger on who….

Indrid! Of course! The strange, cute, skinny man has only been back in Kepler a month or so, and he’s been coming around to see Duck often enough that he considers them friends.

He takes his time crafting an Indrid who looks as much like the real thing as possible, down to the tank-top and pajama pants. Now, where to put him? He could get a Winnebago for him or….

Oh, this is so funny, he can’t pass it up. It takes a few cheat codes and some time, but soon Sim Indrid and Duck are married and have bought a house together. He’s even filled the house with space heaters so Indrid will be comfy. Then he adds some kids for good measure, because why the hell not? 

The rest of the night is spent building a life of wedded bliss for Sim Duck and his new husband until real Duck passes out asleep on the couch. When he wakes up the next morning he closes the game without a second glance, new creations completely forgotten.

\-----------------------

Indrid’s been back in town about three months, the highlight of which has been the time he’s been able to spend with Duck.

Sure, he’d thought Duck was cute when they first met, but there were far more pressing matters to attend to. It’s been nice getting a chance to know him as a full person, rather than the star of some intense late-night fantasies that Indrid indulged in after he left Kepler. 

Duck doesn’t seem to share his feelings, as far as he can tell. But even if he doesn’t, Indrid has no regrets about spending time with him; he’s a remarkable friend and a good man, and Indrid always feels safe and happy when he’s nearby. 

He’s at the apartment on this fine Saturday because he needs to borrow Ducks computer and Ethernet so he can order some new space heaters (the blasted goat minion that hit him broke several in the process). Duck’s stepped out to run some errands, promising to grab lunch for them while he’s out. 

As Indrid closes the browser, he spies a familiar icon: the Sims. He used to love playing that game, but lost the game (and the laptop he played it on) when the previous Winnebago went off a cliff.

Well, no harm in taking a quick spin for old times sake. 

He’s amused to find a digital replica of Kepler and many familiar faces when he opens the game. In fact, there’s a Sim Indrid walking down the street and he chirps with delight upon seeing it. 

Ah, and here’s Sim Duck, in the house Sim Indrid has returned to. The house containing children and many space heaters. And information for their characters says-

Wait, _what_? 

They’re married. Duck and Indrid are married. In the Sims. The Sims which Duck Newton controls.

What does it mean? Does Duck like him as more than a friend? Is it a joke? Is it a sign?

Futures reset in his mind but he’s only half-tracking them as he ponders what he should do about his discovery. He could forget he ever saw. Or he could try something much more interesting. 

When Duck gets home he acts as casual as he can, chatting amicably with him as he puts away his groceries. It’s when Duck is finished but still standing at the counter that Indrid steps up behind him. 

“Duck, would you permit me to try something?”

“Depends on the somethin'.” Duck turns, sending a teasing smile in his direction.

“This.” He grabs a suspender in each hand and pulls Duck in for a kiss. The ranger gasps, wraps his arms around his waist. Looks stunned and elated when Indrid breaks away.

“Where the hell did that come from?”

“Your Sims.”

“...What?” He fixes Indrid with a confused look that’s quickly replaced with one of complete embarrassment when Indrid opens the game to show him.

“Oh Jesus, I must’ve made those when I was playin' drunk.”

Indrid’s blood turns to ice. 

“I see. I, I’m sorry, it was silly of me to assume. I should be going.” He turns to grab his things when a warm hand closes around his own.

“Hold up. Just because I made it for kicks doesn’t mean there ain’t a little truth to it.”

“Really?” Indrid turns back to him, forces himself not to look ahead; he wants to feel this in real time. 

“I, uh, well, I ain’t at the point of proposin' marriage or nothin' but, well, I like you Indrid. I like you an awful lot. And if you feel the same, don’t see any reason why we couldn’t try bein' more than friends.”

“I’d like that more than I have words for.”

“Then don’t bother with ‘em and kiss me instead.”

Indrid grins, brings their lips together. The kiss is innocent but confident and, most importantly, full of promise.


	2. Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reader asks "For the fic requests - Duck takes in an injured stray for a few weeks until it can find a new home. Indrid gets jealous of all the attention the new furball is getting from Duck xx "

Indrid sees the future reset to one where Duck comes home with a box under his arm, though he doesn’t look further than that.

So when Duck comes home a little later than usual with a cardboard box, Indrid doesn’t pay it much mind until Duck says, “So, I ain’t sayin we’re gonna keep it, but I just couldn’t leave it there.” 

He holds out the box and Indrid peers in. Staring back at him are a two huge, orange-red eyes belonging to the small black kitten sitting on a towel. It’s almost cute, but all Indrid can think is that it looks like it got into a bar fight and then took a spin in a dryer; it’s fluff sticks up every which way, a chunk of it’s ear is missing, it seems to be favoring one paw, and it’s snaggle-toothed. 

“Heard it meowin' behind the dumpster by work, looked around but couldn’t find a mama cat anywhere and it don’t got a collar. Figured I can take it to the vet tomorrow to make sure it ain’t sick or hurt and then put up some fliers in case it wandered off from someone.”

The kitten chirps and Duck coos soothingly at it. Indird smiles, leans across the box to kiss him. 

“Such a good-hearted man.” 

Duck blushes and Indrid scritches the kitten behind the ear, though it backs away as soon as he puts his hand on it.

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry little one.”

“Aw, he’s just skittish from bein' out alone. He’ll get used to you. C’mon little fella, let’s get you somewhere warm.” He kisses Indrids cheek and heads towards one of the space heaters. Indrid smiles fondly as he watches him go, before settling at the table to draw up some “Found” posters. 

\---------------------------  
It’s been two weeks.

Indrid’s not jealous of a kitten. He can’t be. It’s absurd. 

“I thought you’dve taken him to the shelter, now that his paw is healed."

“I will eventually, just want him to get a bit bigger and stronger first. Ain’t that right little fella?” The kitten rolls onto its back in Ducks lap and he chuckles, rubs under its chin. Indrid sighs, goes back to drawing; he’s had an exhausting day, lots of bad futures, and would dearly like to rest his head in his boyfriends lap, but the kitten shows no sign of leaving and Duck shows no sign of shifting his attention.

That’s how it’s been for the last two weeks; Duck feeding the kitten, brushing it, playing with it, cuddling it. When Indrid tries to join in, the kitten skitters away and Duck looks so disappointed that Indrid goes and sits elsewhere so it will stop hiding. 

He’d hoped Winnie might force the issue by not tolerating the interloper, but she alternates between ignoring it and letting it share her cat bed. Some help she is.

“Juniper’s a good name, yeah?”

“Duck, you can’t name it, you’ll get attached.”

“Don’t feel right just callin' it kitten though. What about ash?”

Indrid makes a noncommittal noise and massages his temples; he hasn’t been sleeping well. Nightmares. 

He should say something. But what is he supposed to say, “please get rid of the helpless animal you care for because I’m jealous of it for reasons I cannot explain?” Not a chance. He’ll just learn to live with it. 

\---------------------------

Duck’s working late and Indrid is drawing on the couch when there’s a tremendous crash from the kitchen. Indrid screeches in surprise (something that's rare in his human form), he’d been to caught up in the futures to notice that one coming, plus he’s already on edge from the bad visions and the limited sleep.

When he gets into the kitchen he finds drawings and mail scattered across the floor, dishes knocked into the sink resulting in two broken plates, and the kitten on the floor, wide-eyed.

“You.” He hisses, narrowing his eyes.

The kitten stays still.

“Look at this mess! I can’t understand what Duck sees in you, you’re just, just a little disaster waiting to happen!” He raises his voice and the kittens ears flatten back. 

“I’m leaving it like this, so when he gets home he’ll see just how much trouble you are and get rid of you! He’ll-” He stops short when he realizes two things: the kitten is too small to jump on the counter, and the shutter has been forced open by the wind in such a way that it would have hit the pile of dirty dishes.

He looks back at the black ball of fluff. It’s frozen, staring at him. 

“You didn’t cause this at all. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time and I blamed you for it.” 

The kitten blinks.

“You’re not a disaster you’re a, a, little lost thing looking for a home.” 

He sinks down onto the floor, resting his back against the cabinets, and the next thing he knows he’s crying.

“I’m s-sorry for yelling at you, even if you had caused it that do-doesn’t mean you’re bad. I haven’t, this hasn’t been my home for that long either and I’m so scared Duck’ll realize he can get companionship from someone who isn’t linked to disaster and, and, I’m sorry I got jealous, you don’t even know what that means because you’re a cat just like you don’t know what it’s like to be flooded with bad visions so you couldn't know how I was feeling. And you’re _scared_ and I know what that’s like and I envy you for being able to be scared and just have someone cuddle you and tell you it’s okay and not worry that they’ll think you’re being ridiculous or weak or, or, or” he pauses to wipe his nose on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Then he can’t find anymore words so he sits there, sniffling. 

“Mew?”

A tiny black shape climbs into his lap. Kneads at his thigh.

“Oh. Oh my goodness you’re adorable.”

“Mew.” It headbutts his hand until he pets it, begins purring.

“You’re so soft.” He carefully scoops the kitten into his hands and it lets him lift it eye-level. 

“Such a forgiving little thing. How silly I was. If Duck is going to turn anyone loose it ought to be me.”

“Or” a voice drawls from the other side of the counter, “there’s a third option where nobody gets turned loose because I love you, you goofus.”

“EeeeepHow long have you been standing there?”

“You were already cryin' on the floor when I came in, but it seemed better to let you get it all out.”

“Oh god you heard all of it didn’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Ughhhhhh.” He thunks his head back against the side of the counter. Places the kitten down so it can prance and pounce over to Duck as he sits down in front of Indrid. 

“Darlin', if you were havin' a bad time-”

“I know I should have said something sooner but I was afraid you’d decide I was too needy.”

“Indrid, I have been carin' for somethin' that bites my ankle if I go more than ten minutes without payin' attention to it. Unless you start doin' that I ain’t gonna think you’re needy.”

He takes Indrids hand, twines their fingers together. 

“Besides, you’re my partner. That means takin' care of you when you’re feelin' low, just like how you’ve taken care of me when I was feelin' the same.”

Indrid blinks away the last of his tears, cups Ducks face so he can kiss him. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, now c’mon and cuddle with me on the couch. You can come too, fluffball.”

“Luna.”

“Huh?”

“I think we should name him Luna.”

“I like it. Like you too.” Duck pecks him on the cheek as they sit down, Luna making several unsuccessful attempts to get on the couch before Indrid picks him up and sets him on the cushions. 

Indrid rests his head in Ducks lap and the ranger pets his hair as he tells him about his day, Luna curling up on the taller mans stomach. 

By the time they all fall asleep, both Indrid and Luna are purring.


	3. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reader requests: "indrid showing duck his old court clothes/talking shit and gossiping about the sylvan court?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in the "Falling" universe, right after the events of "Mayfly.

Duck’s not sure what he’s looking at, only that it’s the fanciest piece of clothing to ever be in this apartment.

“Oh, my, I haven’t seen that in ages. And I haven’t worn it in longer than that, but I suppose Ned and Barclay just threw everything that wasn’t destroyed into boxes.” Indrid is leaning on the bedroom door frame, wistful smile on his face. 

“Yeah, found it in the boxes with your other clothes when I was movin' them into the dresser. What is it?”

“My old robe, from when I was seer in Sylvain. Or, well, one of them. I imagine the others are close by.”

Duck digs down into the box, pulling out several more strange, ornate pieces of clothing and laying them on the bed. Indrid sits down on the mattress, running his fingers over one in particular. It’s sage green and silver, made of lighter fabric than the others. 

“This was always my favorite.”

“Bringin' back memories?” Duck folds the flaps of the box shut, climbs onto the bed next to his boyfriend.

“I suppose. My life in Sylvain was so long ago, so different from how it is now that I often feel as though it happened to someone else. I sometimes think the Sylph who wore these wouldn’t even recognize what I’ve become.”

“What if you tried them on? Y’know, see if they sparked joy like that book I see Stern readin' keeps talkin' about.”

Indrid tilts his head, considering the idea.

“Not to mention I like seein' you all dressed up.”

Indrid blushes, kisses him softly.

“A convincing argument.” He steps off the bed, slipping off his glasses and setting them on the bedside table. Picking up a red and orange robe, he slips it over his head like a toga and almost immediately gives an annoyed chirr.

“Flashy.”

“It’s the robe I had to wear whenever a new, high-ranking member of the court was welcomed. We all had to wear things of this color to honor the heart of Sylvain.”

“Looks good against your feathers.”

“Yes, but it’s so itchy. Do you have any idea how itchy something has to be for me to feel it through all this fluff?”

“Eeeesh.”

“Precisely. Farewell, unpleasant robe.” He tugs it off and tosses it near the door, picks up another. This one covers more of him, like a judges robe with holes in the back for his wings. It’s deep teal, metallic. 

“Ohhhh.” Indrid purrs, tugs it closer.

“Color looks good on you, and I like how shiny it is.”

“That’s not the best part; it’s lined with a type of velvet that traps heat. It’s so warm, I love it.” 

“Where’d it come from?”

“A gift. From, ahem, an admirer” His voice goes a bit soft. 

“Indrid Cold, were you gettin' romanced by princes and shit before you came here?”

“No, if memory serves he was a general. I was very fond of him, and foresaw him asking to marry me-”

“Holy shit”

“-At the same time I foresaw that in some timelines he admitted to the fact that he was only pursuing me because my powers would help him to victory and glory.” His antennae droop.

“Asshole.”

“Indeed. I shall keep it, however, since it is warm and we can use it as a blanket for the couch.”

The next robe is similar in shape to the first, but is a swirl of burnt orange, pale green, and mustard yellow.

“Man, I don’t got much of a eye for style and even I know that’s hideous.”

Indrid sighs.

“A very doting great aunt made it for me when I first became seer. She was so proud. I kept it to wear on days when I knew I’d see her, since it made her happy to know something she made was gracing the halls of the court. But it’s time has come.” He places it carefully in the pile of rejected robes. 

The next robe is the most striking, black with zigzags of metallic red. But Indrid doesn’t put it on. He stares at it, expression unreadable. 

“Darlin?”

“I wore these during my last years, when Sylvain was at war. We all had to look as though we were intimidating members of a powerful kingdom who held no fear in their hearts. Nothing could have been further from the truth. And I have no taste for war.” His voice is softly bitter as tosses the fabric aside.

“Aubrey might like it.” Duck offers gently, “could make it into new performance duds. Take somethin' awful and imbue it with that bright, Aubrey-ness of hers.”

“Very true.” Indrid picks it back up, sets it aside before adding, “and if that doesn’t work I can have her burn it for me.”

Last is the green and silver robe. It’s not showy, but something about the colors suits Indrid, makes his feathers and shape stand out and Ducks breath disappears from his throat as Indrid turns a slow circle in it.

“I like that one.”

“It was my first. Funny, I haven’t worn it in over a century but the feeling of it on my frame takes me right back to my first days as seer. And I can feel him in here,” he taps his chest, “that young Sylph full of hopes and dreams of all the ways he could prevent the evils of the world. No disasters attached to his name, no deaths on his conscious. Some things were hard to see coming even when they were right in front of him. Lucky creature.”

“Nothin' you have that you think he’d envy?” 

Indrid looks at him, shakes his head with a small laugh.

“You, for starters. Aubrey, Ned, Madeline, the others. A life I made for myself, the places I’ve been and things I’ve done only because I was free to explore them.” He crosses back to Duck, caresses a claw down his cheek as Duck takes his other hand and kisses each knuckle in turn. 

“I envy his optimism and youth, my love, but I would not trade places with him for all the world.”


	4. Some Things Come Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reader requested: I have another Indruck prompt if you’re still taking them/interested: In Indrid’s absence from Kepler after the tree abomination, and in the wake of losing his powers, Duck finds a Gyspy Moth caterpillar. These moths are a problem in the Monongahela Forest because they cause deforestation, but Duck can’t bring himself to kill it. Instead, he takes it home and raises it from caterpillar to moth. He now has to explain to everyone (including Indrid when he returns) why he has a pet moth.

Duck spots the caterpillar. It’s a Gypsy Moth, bad news for the trees in his beloved forest. 

Whelp, the little fella will have to go. 

He picks up a small rock, perfect for squishing. But he can’t bring himself to actually squish it. His soft spot for critters doesn’t usually extend to ones that are pests, and for a moment he’s worried that Minnies disconnection means he can’t be tough in literally any way, be it physical or emotional. 

Then again, a more likely explanation is that the word “moth” conjures up different images than it used to; a pair of red glasses, a strange face, an utter inability to handle cold. Dried blood on the face, tied up by the Cottonwood. 

God, he’d felt like he’d been punched, seeing Indrid with the injuries from whatever scuffle happened with the goatminion. 

Indrid is gone, flown away to who-knows-where, a string of “what-ifs” trailing behind him. Duck will never get to know him better, never figure out what the little prick of warmth in his chest whenever he saw the man meant. He hasn’t come back in months, and Duck can’t say he blames him. Kepler didn’t exactly prove safe. 

He searches for a few stray leave, piles them on the seat of the jeep. Scoops the caterpillar into his hands and then deposits it on the pile. 

“Alright little guy, let’s head home.”

\---------------------------------------------

It’s a week later he’s placing leaves into a shoe box for his new pet to munch on.

“There you go, dinner time.” 

He’s managed to keep the caterpillar alive, in part because the cat is deeply uninterested by it. The kids book he found at the library has also helped. 

Now one else knows about the shoe box or its occupant. Right now, it’s his little secret, and something about that calms him. He can keep this little fella safe, even though the rest of his life is shuddering and shifting under his feet in ways he doesn’t like. His once predictable world gets more fraught by the week. But his friend here will always need leaves, will eventually pupate, will eventually fly. How comforting to know things go on day by day even when disaster is around every corner.

Jesus, he’s waxing poetic about a moth. He really needs to sleep more.   
\---------------------------------------

The days are consistently warm when his new pet finally pupates. It’s latched to a branch in the aquarium tank Duck found at a garage sale. Something about it being in this stage makes Duck anxious; he can’t see what’s happening, he can’t see if it’s okay and yes he knows he knows how moth life cycles work and that it will be fine. 

He’ll come back to him. 

There’s a Pine Guard meeting tonight, and so he drives up to the lodge, more tired than he cares to admit. 

The commotion in the lobby doesn’t strike him as odd, he just figures Aubrey is showing off a new trick. He steps up beside Barclay to see who he’s talking to.

Red glasses. And a wide smile that takes on a new depth as he appears.

“Hello, Duck. Nice to see you again.”

\-----------------------------------------------

It’s movie night, and Duck is hosting. His friends a curled on couches and nestled on pillows on the floor. 

Indrid is among them, having used his weeks back in Kepler to grow closer to Pine Guard, spend more time at the lodge and around his fellow Sylphs.

That Duck has gone to his Winnebago on more than one occasion just because he wanted to see him has not escaped anyone's notice. Duck is still trying to convince himself it’s solely to hang out with a friend. 

“Uh, Duck, why do you have an empty fishtank?”

Everyone’s heads swivel towards where Aubrey is looking.

“I believe it’s not entirely empty.” Indrid says softly, voice suggesting he’s only half-present in the room. 

Ned, Dani, and Aubrey crowd around the tank. 

“It’s a butterfly cocoon.” Dani points at the purple-brown shape. 

“It’s actually a-”  
“HOLY SHIT it’s moving!” Aubrey gives a delighted cheer and Duck nudges Ned aside so he can see too. They stand transfixed as little by little wings and body appear until at last the reveal…

“A moth? Interesting selection, my friend.” Ned peers at it.

“Isn’t that kind invasive or something?” Dani looks at Duck, who shrugs before speaking.

“Yeah, they ain’t good for the forest. But I found one as a caterpillar and just, uh, just, fuck, decided to, uh, hold onto, no. Fuck.”

“It’s a bit drab.” Ned muses. 

“I rather like the color.” Indrid murmurs and Duck realizes he’s standing beside him, regarding the moth as it flaps it’s wings to dry them. He looks back at his pet and his breath catches in a way he hopes only Indrid (but ideally not even him) hears. The colors on his little friend are similar to colors he remembers from Indrid’s Sylph form. 

“Did you name it?” Aubrey gives a small wave to the moth through the glass. 

“Indrid.” It slips out before Duck can stop it; he’d called the moth that in his head. But when it slips out it’s not only him who says it. Indrids voice layers beneath his. 

“Awwwww.” Aubrey says, giving Duck a look that he knows all too well. His cheeks are burning, and worse Indrid has gone silent. 

“Oughta let him get adjusted to havin wings and shit. C’mon, let’s start the movie.”

The movie passes uneventfully, but Duck catches Indrid giving him odd looks during it. 

And when everyone else departs, the slender, white-haired man remains. When Duck finishes waving goodbye to Aubrey and Dani, he shuts the door and finds Indrid seated in front of the tank.

He sits down next to him.

“You know I’m not really a moth, right?” It’s teasing, but there’s something else going on in his voice. 

“Course I do. Just, the day I found him I was missin you somethin awful.”

“You missed me? Goodness, we’d barely gotten to know each other.” 

“That’s just it. I wanted to get to know you better and then there was the tree and the goatman and then whoosh you were gone and I thought I was never-”

“-Going to see you again.” Indrid’s not looking at the tank anymore, his gaze fixed completely on Duck.

“I like you, Indrid, I like you more every day that passes, and apparently I liked you a whole fuckin lot before that because I couldn’t kill a fuckin moth larvae because whenever I thought the word moth I saw your face.”

Indrid blinks at him, head tilted to one side. 

Duck smacks a hand over his eyes, embarrassed by the confession.

“Please tell me there’s a future where I sink into the ground.”

“No” a chilly hand moves his own from his eyes while the other cups his cheek, “but there are many futures where something else happens. If, that is, it’s something you want.” His smile is soft as he strokes Ducks cheek with his thumb.

“Please.” He whispers.

Indrids lips are as cold and as chapped as he expected them to be and he couldn’t be happier, wraps his arms around him and pulls him closer. 

“More?” Indrid grins at him when they break apart and Ducks hands shoot up into his hair to pull him into a kiss and down onto the floor. 

“The answer is yes.” He’s panting now, staring down at Duck with delight.

“Can I at least actually ask the damn thing?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“Can I take you out sometime?”

The answer comes in yet another kiss, one with far more heat behind it. 

“Do you, uh, wanna move this somewhere else. Don’t wanna scandalize the moth.” 

“I’m his namesake, I can scandalize him as I please.” Indrid kisses his nose, “but yes, the couch will be far more comfortable.” He stands up, offers Duck a hand, pulls him into and embrace once he stands and just holds him for a moment. As he does, Duck smiles.

Bringing home that caterpillar is one of the best things he ever did.


End file.
